If football clubs could sit on the psychiatrist’s chair, Liverpool would be
diagnosed with multiple-personality disorder.

Kenny Dalglish returned as manager to an institution seeking to restore its once esteemed identity but unsure how or if it could be done.

Dalglish, the embodiment of a triumphant Anfield history, has struggled like his predecessors to marry conflicting theories. His old-school view of what the club are has collided with the forces of modernism and globalisation and contributed to a philosophical wreck.

The club he left in 1991 was a different country. Even if he lifts his second trophy in three months at Wembley on Saturday, he will be fending off questions about whether it compensates for enduring Premier League decline.

This is not the Liverpool Dalglish knew. Not the club who basked in their own certainty. Roles were defined, lines of authority clear.

Anfield executives did not endlessly talk about what the club needed to do. They just did it. The image of Liverpool as the family club who did things ‘the right way’ flourished.

Everything changed when the rampant commercialisation of the Premier League meant clubs once hailed for their quaint corner-shop mentality were expected to transform themselves into ruthless multinationals.

Liverpool could not do it, partially because the essentially conservative supporters did not want to be like Manchester United with their stock flotations, club megastores, overpriced record signings and 25-year title droughts. Liverpool fans claimed to have more class, revelling in looking like Arkwright fighting off the supermarket chain opening down the road.

Two takeovers later, the American dollar seducing the Kop with hopes of squad and stadium renovation, those jibes were exposed as hypocrisy. Former chairman David Moores went from honourable custodian to being accused of neglecting the family business. By the time of Dalglish’s return, it seemed every Liverpool supporter had an economics degree and had forewarned of imminent stagnation.

They want hard-nosed capitalists at Anfield now, but only hard-nosed capitalists who do not wish to make any profit for themselves and know all the words to 'You’ll Never Walk Alone'.

John W Henry oversees this muddled legacy and is still trying to comprehend what he bought. A messed-up venue that wants to be perceived as it was in the Seventies and Eighties but is compelled to embrace the successful business models of iconic sporting ‘brands’. It is the unattainable, contradictory challenge. To keep Liverpool unique while copying what others do better; to impose benevolent capitalism while satisfying supporters who dream of Liverpool becoming an independent socialist republic.

Liverpool still disguise any dangerously forward-thinking gesture with a populist slogan. When they recruited their first foreign manager, Gerard Houllier, the fact he taught in Liverpool and once stood on the Kop was oddly essential. He even had to appoint a Liverpool legend, Phil Thompson, as assistant despite having met him only once. Current managing director Ian Ayre emphasises his ‘L4’ roots to prove he would be on a coach to Wembley with the fans were it not for the corporate hospitality.

The evangelical belief in the righteousness of Liverpool’s past can obstruct the path to a successful future. Anfield itself symbolises this. The stadium looks older with each visit – a shrine to former league glories and hindrance to foreseeable ones.

On Wednesday, Henry took a private tour of the derelict properties blocking Anfield expansion. He sees the problems and accepts his responsibilities, but is not excelling with solutions. When supporters demand consultation on major decisions you end up with regular episodes ripe for parody.

The clash between historic certainty and contemporary corporate responsibility pollutes everything, manifesting itself most damagingly this season in the Suárez-Evra case.

The instinctive desire to defend one of their own at all costs led to the entire club being stupidly tainted with racism until the commercial and corporate pressures took over and humiliating apologies were issued.

Dalglish is a football man, not a PR strategist. He should be acclaimed rather than pilloried for that, but he is adjusting to a new political landscape in an unrecognisable environment. He is a similar breed to Sir Alex Ferguson, but while the United manager has evolved within football’s changing landscape, Dalglish has had only 18 months to play catch-up with Liverpool’s infrastructure years behind. He assumes responsibility for this season, but the problems run deeper.

To the Kop, Kenny’s way is the club’s way but every league setback magnifies divisions between staunch tradition and cynical modernism.

Look at the trophy cabinet, say the historians. Look at Liverpool back at Wembley, on the brink of winning another major competition. Winning two trophies in a season is the reason supporters queue five hours for Cup final tickets.

Look at the league performance and expensive signings, say the dissenters. For those who desire a return to European elite - including the owners - the Carling and FA Cup is not enough. It is those interfering commercial forces again. Champions League qualification offers more long-term reassurance than two domestic cups.

Dalglish has ‘the full support’ of his owners on Saturday but there has still been no public assurance he will be in charge at the start of next season. That will likely follow if Chelsea are beaten. Win, and the ceaseless quest to recapture the old days can continue, Wembley triumph providing a therapeutic climax to a troubling season until the Premier League scars need fresh treatment in August.